


Green and Blue Go Well Together, Don't You Think?

by groundedreamer



Category: Free!
Genre: Alternate Universe, Awkward Flirting, Dancing, Fluff, Humor, M/M, Meeting for the first time, Romance, makoto dances, the furniture store au no one asked for
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-19
Updated: 2015-07-19
Packaged: 2018-04-10 01:54:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,510
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4372622
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/groundedreamer/pseuds/groundedreamer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Haru just wants to buy a mug. He didn't ask to be personally victimized by a cute cashier.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Green and Blue Go Well Together, Don't You Think?

**Author's Note:**

> I was in Pier 1 Imports yesterday and I Don't Feel Like Dancing by the Scissor Sisters came on the radio. I may or may not have been dancing in the back of the store when I realized how cute this would be if Makoto was dancing and got caught by Haru. Especially if they had no clue who the other one was, but wow, aren't they cute.
> 
> I also danced to this in my room, trying to figure out how to describe Makoto dancing and googled whale penises. All for the this fic.

The automated bell rings as soon as Haru opens the door to the small furniture store. He sighs, annoyed with the sound for giving away his presence. He prefers to do his shopping uninterrupted. In and out, no wasted time. He also knows from past experience that sudden social interaction was not his strong suit and dearly wants to keep awkward encounters to a minimum.

Haru makes a beeline for the mug collection in the back, unwilling to give anyone the chance of sneaking up on him. He passes a rather cozy living room set up on the way past the checkout counter, when movement catches his eye. An employee, judging by the blue apron and name tag, is dancing behind the counter to whatever is playing on the radio. Haru pauses to listen and snorts when he recognizes the song. The employee seems to be heavily invested in his dance routine because he doesn't even notice Haru openly staring at him. He is also doing, Haru swears, the dorkiest dance moves on this side of the ocean.

 

_But I don't feel like dancin'_

_No sir, no dancin' today,_

_Don't feel like dancin' , dancin'_

 

He's waving his arms and moving his hips rhythmically while mouthing the words. Haru snorts again and gives him a quick look up and down. He's tall. A white button-down casually open at his neck underneath the apron. His head is tilted towards the ground and his brown hair obscures his eyes from Haru, but he can see his happy grin as he bounces up and down, swinging his arms in time and snapping.

The young man then starts bobbing his head so seriously that Haru can't help but turn into his shoulder to laugh silently. He takes another peek at him and before he knows it, he's clutching his sides, trying not to laugh out loud. A few peals of laughter escape through his mouth anyway and just like someone slamming on the brakes, the young man freezes mid-moonwalk (which was really just closer to shuffling backwards with his arms outstretched) and looks mortified. Haru is covering his mouth with both hands at this point, desperately trying to stop his laughter.

The young man's entire face floods with color and he's waving his hands incoherently in the air. It looks so much like his dancing that Haru laughs harder, finally giving in and letting his hands fall away from his mouth to clutch his thighs for support. A few seconds later, another laugh suddenly joins his, deep and rich. It warms up the air in between them. Haru's stomach jumps and his laughter dies away.

The young man is still laughing, still red in the face, but his eyes are scrunched tightly and he's covering half his face loosely with a hand. He looks embarrassed, but also somehow radiant. It's raining outside, but it feels like the storm had skipped this part of town. The store clerk's laughter dwindles into chuckles and he's wiping at one of his eyes.

"Ahh," he says, still bright red, "I'm really embarrassed right now, but I'm glad I got to make someone laugh."

He looks at Haru and smiles and Haru knows then that he has to leave the building as soon as possible. The store clerk has warm green, happy eyes set under thick, but relaxed eyebrows. His nose and cheeks have a liberal sprinkling of freckles on them. And were those _dimples dammit?_

Haru feels like he did a belly flop into concrete. His body is tingling and his arms automatically go around his middle, the part that always hurts the most. He tries to smile back, but knows it's strained. He can barely make eye contact with the clerk's blinding smile.

"Ah, sorry," he mutters. He glances at the clerk again and starts to shuffle backwards. He needs to find a place where he can restart his brain. The clerk's smile dims in brightness and Haru suddenly feels guilty. He mutters another "Sorry" and spins around, quickly walking back to his original destination. A small voice is screaming at him to turn around, be suave, charm him with his command of deep seas facts, and ask for his number. But another part of him, the part that knows he'll be at a loss for words as soon as he's face-to-face with those freckles, tells him to keep walking and stop himself from doing something stupid, like telling him a blue whale's penis is at least eight feet long.

Haru sighs, staring morosely at a cat-shaped mug he had picked up randomly. It was too much to even consider. People didn't meet in random furniture stores and decide to date. Didn't that happen in bars or something? Supermarkets maybe? Haru puts the mug back with more force than he meant to use and the entire shelf rattles. He hastily withdraws his hand, hoping nothing breaks and moves toward another shelf of mugs. A nice white one catches his eye. There are subtle blue wave patterns that twist and turn on it with a silver line around the rim. Haru reaches for it, liking the simplicity and elegance of the design. He inspects it for any cracks and finding none, he nods to himself, satisfied.

He fervently hopes that the checkout process will be quick and he can hurry back home for a long soak. Unfortunately for him, he spots a white mug on another shelf. It's simple, more cream than white with a bright green inside that was, he was realizing with a sinking feeling, the same exact color as the clerk's eyes.

_No, no, no Haru. Don't do it. Don't—_

But it's too late, his fingers close around the handle and he picks it up. The outside of the mug has a simple watercolor painting of a basket filled with flowers. The inside, he realizes on closer inspection, is peridot green. It's a welcome splash of color. The flowers and the slight indentations on its surface give it a homey feel. Haru can already imagine himself curled up on the couch, drinking tea in a patch of sunlight.

His eyebrows furrow in confusion. He wonder at the sudden vivid image his mind had conjured. He couldn't be having such an emotional reaction to a five dollar mug of all things. He gives his head a shake and squats down to put the mug back, but his fingers don't seem to want to let go. _Down_ , he thinks, _put it down_. He succeeds in setting it down, but his hand snatches it up immediately. Before he knows it, he's walking back to the counter with it, slightly terrified and mourning the white mug his treacherous hand left at the display.

He sets the mug on the counter and waits for the clerk to reappear. In that time, Haru stares at his hands. It might be a serious situation, he thinks. Rei once told him about a parasite that attacked the brain and took over the host's body. He frowns, hoping that if that's the case, he would have enough control left over to get to the hospital.

"Oh, you're all done!" a warm voice says. "I hope you found everything okay! Aww, this is so cute!"

Haru blinks, he can practically hear the emoticons in his voice.

"Where did you find it? I've never seen it before." The clerk has the mug in his hands and is turning it over. Haru snorts accidentally and the clerk scratches his head, looking sheepish. "Ahh, I know what you're thinking. How does a guy who works here not know his own inventory?" He shrugs before smiling brightly. "There's so much stuff that I sometimes forget!"

Haru feels an odd pain in his chest. He is also hit with the sudden thought that this store clerk could get away with smashing every single thing inside this store and the next by just smiling and scratching his head like that. Haru would bet his entire Iwatobi-chan keychain collection on it.

"Anyway, enough of my silly ramblings. Will this be all for today?" He cocks his head to the right slightly. His expression is politely curious, his face relaxed into a half smile.

Haru nods, but then forces himself to speak. "Yes," he says, glancing at the clerk (Makoto Tachibana, Haru sees from his name tag) and then looking away.

The clerk's—Makoto's—smile turns softer and his eyes close into happy half-moons.

Water have mercy on his soul. Haru almost clutches at his chest and moves backwards. This was really too much. Too much. How could anyone expect him to look into the sun without hurting his eyes?

"Great! I'll get this wrapped up for you!" Makoto leans down and pulls out a large sheet of blue paper to wrap the mug in. He lays it flat on the counter and puts the mug at one edge and begins rolling it to the other side, tucking in the loose edges along the way. He fixes the edges with tape, eyebrows pushed together as he concentrates on ripping off the perfect amount. Haru's eyes jump from his face, to his hands, and finally a textbook laying open next to the register. Haru spots the word _swimming_ almost immediately. All of a sudden, he gets excited.

Makoto looks up, almost as if he had sensed Haru's excitement. He quickly makes the connection between Haru's gaze and the textbook. "Do you like swimming?" he asks innocently.

That was like asking if Rin cried everyday. Haru nods quickly. He knows he probably has that "swimming maniac" look on his face and takes a deep breath, trying to reel it in.

"Ahaha, I can tell. Your face suddenly looks really happy." Haru felt his cheeks heat up and he looks away out of habit. Makoto laughs and pulls out a second sheet of paper. "Do you swim?" he asks.

"For my University," Haru mumbles, still feeling embarrassed.

"Oh wow," Makoto's eyes are wide and he looks impressed. "You must be really good then." Haru shrugs and Makoto continues. "I like swimming and I used to swim in high school, but I'm definitely not good enough to swim on my University team."

Haru shuffles, wishing Makoto would stop looking at him with such big eyes. "Are you training for the Olympics?"

Haru turns even more red. "Yes," he says. "I want to be there next year."

"Waahh, that's amazing! Good luck!!"

Haru expresses his thanks, still feeling awkward. He never liked to be the center of attention.

The only sounds after that are Makoto steadily working away at the mug. He was on his third sheet of paper, slowly wrapping it. After a minute, Haru asks: "What do you do—study?"

"Teaching," he replies easily. "I want to be a swimming instructor for young kids." He smiles and Haru finds himself giving him a small smile back. It seemed like something Makoto would do.

"That sounds wonderful," Haru says quietly.

"E—Eh? You really think so?" Makoto is the one who looks flustered now and his hands are fluttering over the mummified mug. "I mean, you're doing something so amazing such as training for the Olympics, how can teaching young children even compare? I'll be happy if I can show even one kid how fun swimming can be." He's still talking, but Haru tunes him out. He suddenly feels protective towards this young store clerk. He's so sweet and warm. Haru wants to make sure he stays that way.

Makoto has talked himself into silence it seems and Haru gives him a small smile. "You're studying so hard to achieve your dream," he says. "I think that's admirable."

Makoto's eyes widen and he looks like he's going to explode. And he does, into a smile. "Thank you," he says. "That made me very happy." He presents Haru's mug, wrapped in four different layers of paper, in a bag for him to take. Haru takes it and smiles.

Makoto waves to him as he steps away from the counter. Haru walks to the door, feeling light and airy, like he could float away in the breeze. He can't even bring himself to find the doorbell annoying when it rings. Before he can step out into the rain, he hears Makoto calling after him.

"Ah, wait!" he cries. "You forgot your receipt." He comes to a stop in front of Haru and pushes it into his hand.

Haru looks down, surprised. "Oh, thank you." He shrugs internally. It wouldn't matter if he had his receipt or not, but because Makoto had been nice enough to bring it, he slips it into his bag. Makoto smiles at him, his dimples visible. Haru enjoys that feeling of a mild heart attack with vigor one more time before he steps outside. The door closes quietly and Haru walks without an umbrella. The soothing feeling of the rain intensified by the happiness in his heart.

 

 

 

He's sitting in a small coffee shop two streets away from the furniture store. The rain had gotten too bad to walk in and Haru never brings his umbrella. He places the bag on the table next to his tea. He passes some time staring out the window, but he eventually gives in and pulls the bag to him. He wants to see his mug again.

He pulls it out and chuckles to himself when he sees how much tape and paper were engulfing it. Haru wonders briefly if Tachibana does that for every customer, giving them more than they asked or expected. He looks out at the rain. I _t wouldn't be so bad_ , he thinks, _to be in the sun_.

He places the unwrapped mug next to the bag and picks up the receipt. _Five dollars_. _Not too bad_. His eyes flick to the end of the receipt where Makoto seemed to have scribbled something. Haru's eyes widen and he reads it once, twice, three times before he's standing up abruptly and shoving everything back in the bag.

 

_Umm I don't know your name, but I hope before you become an international star, it would be okay to ask you to have coffee with an ordinary person?_

_-Makoto_

 

Haru laughs as he runs back to the store. He had actually drawn a cat next to his name. It wasn't surprising. It seems like the exact kind of thing Makoto would do. Haru skids to a halt in front of the store and bursts through the door. The doorbell rings again, and Haru distractedly thinks that it's gentle two-tone doesn't convey the feeling of the situation properly. Makoto looks up at the sound. When he sees Haru, his eyes begin to crinkle at the edges.

Haru pants hard. His hands are on his knees and it feels like his blood is flying through his body, barely stopping at his heart or his head.

"Yes," he says, taking a big gulp of air. "That would be perfect."

When he looks up, he can see Makoto's dimples from the door.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed it and if you ever want to leave random messages about how wonderful makoharu is, here's my tumblr: http://montgomery-rain.tumblr.com
> 
> Also, if you want to leave constructive criticism, I'd greatly appreciate it ^.^


End file.
